said nothing.
“I will take that as an aye.” He whistled for his mount. “Let us depart, then. But just so you know, lass”—as he swung onto his mount, the smile he offered was tightly—“were you a man, you would be long since cold in your grave.”
A heel on Fortune’s side, and the animal sprinted forward. This time Cameron was in no mood to be mindful of his pace. It was not intentional—he was simply too angry with the wench!
Before long, the forest thinned. High above, fluffy masses of clouds cast huge shadows across the landscape below. Starlings swirled and veered and swooped with the currents of the wind. Before them, the hills rose in meadowed benches of bright yellow and verdant green.
Just then some small sound reached his ears—a tiny, choked-off sound of distress. It lasted but an instant…
Cameron’s head whipped around.
Meredith was just behind him and to the right. He reined Fortune to a halt, then called to her.
“Do you need assistance?”
She shot him a fulminating look but said nothing. With her countenance set in smooth, implacable lines, she marched on. Whatever it was, she’d completely recovered, as if naught had happened.
“As you wish, then,” he said coolly.
His gaze lingered on her a moment longer. A beauty, he’d thought last night, but such did not even begin to describe her. Impossible as it seemed, she was even more breathtaking in daylight! It mattered naught that her skin was smudged with dust, that her hair hung tangled about slim, narrow hips. The wretched gown she wore was ragged and torn—yetdrooped in places that hinted of rounded pink tantalizing flesh that he had never thought to imagine—not in a Munro! A part of him could not reconcile such beauty, not when such vile blood flowed in her veins; yet at last Cameron admitted that which he had sidestepped throughout the day. Nothing could disguise the beauty beneath.
Cameron had slowed his pace. His gaze sharpened when he saw that she had begun to limp. A dozen times he nearly snatched her before him in the saddle, yet a dozen times he stopped himself. Why didn’t she ask him to stop? She moved on with stoic persistence, the bonny wee fool!
They had just come upon the river that wound through the glen when she went down on one knee. A grimace twisted her features as she stretched out a hand to catch her fall, yet she was upright again in the next breath; had his regard resided elsewhere but an instant, he would never have noticed.
This time Cameron did not hesitate. He wheeled Fortune to a halt directly before her and swung to the ground.
Aware of the fierceness of his expression and the swiftness of his approach, she threw up a hand as if to ward him off.
“Stop!” she cried.
“Sit!” he countered.
She did not, but began to back away.
He snared her elbow and pulled her to him. With a growl, he laid his palms upon her shoulders, expecting her to fight him. She yielded, dropping to the ground as if she were melting, her legs folding beneath her.
Her eyes were huge. “Why do you look at me so?”
Only then did Cameron realize the fierceness of hisexpression. Could it be this was a means to yield her compliance…a mere glower?
“Show me your feet,” he said sternly.
“There is no need!”
Hurriedly she tried to draw her feet beneath her, but Cameron was too quick. He planted his hand squarely atop her thigh, just above her knee. Her reaction was immediate. She tried to recoil. With his fingers Cameron squeezed, just enough to convey the message that she was not free.
She froze. He had the feeling he’d shocked her to the saintly core. All at once her face burned crimson.
A potent satisfaction filled his chest. A look. A touch. This was proving most enlightening—it would seem either would quell her resistance.
Cupping his free hand around one shapely calf, he drew her foot forward, dimly aware of the softness of her flesh. She flinched, but did not withdraw.
His frown returned in
“I will take that as an aye.” He whistled for his mount. “Let us depart, then. But just so you know, lass”—as he swung onto his mount, the smile he offered was tightly—“were you a man, you would be long since cold in your grave.”
A heel on Fortune’s side, and the animal sprinted forward. This time Cameron was in no mood to be mindful of his pace. It was not intentional—he was simply too angry with the wench!
Before long, the forest thinned. High above, fluffy masses of clouds cast huge shadows across the landscape below. Starlings swirled and veered and swooped with the currents of the wind. Before them, the hills rose in meadowed benches of bright yellow and verdant green.
Just then some small sound reached his ears—a tiny, choked-off sound of distress. It lasted but an instant…
Cameron’s head whipped around.
Meredith was just behind him and to the right. He reined Fortune to a halt, then called to her.
“Do you need assistance?”
She shot him a fulminating look but said nothing. With her countenance set in smooth, implacable lines, she marched on. Whatever it was, she’d completely recovered, as if naught had happened.
“As you wish, then,” he said coolly.
His gaze lingered on her a moment longer. A beauty, he’d thought last night, but such did not even begin to describe her. Impossible as it seemed, she was even more breathtaking in daylight! It mattered naught that her skin was smudged with dust, that her hair hung tangled about slim, narrow hips. The wretched gown she wore was ragged and torn—yetdrooped in places that hinted of rounded pink tantalizing flesh that he had never thought to imagine—not in a Munro! A part of him could not reconcile such beauty, not when such vile blood flowed in her veins; yet at last Cameron admitted that which he had sidestepped throughout the day. Nothing could disguise the beauty beneath.
Cameron had slowed his pace. His gaze sharpened when he saw that she had begun to limp. A dozen times he nearly snatched her before him in the saddle, yet a dozen times he stopped himself. Why didn’t she ask him to stop? She moved on with stoic persistence, the bonny wee fool!
They had just come upon the river that wound through the glen when she went down on one knee. A grimace twisted her features as she stretched out a hand to catch her fall, yet she was upright again in the next breath; had his regard resided elsewhere but an instant, he would never have noticed.
This time Cameron did not hesitate. He wheeled Fortune to a halt directly before her and swung to the ground.
Aware of the fierceness of his expression and the swiftness of his approach, she threw up a hand as if to ward him off.
“Stop!” she cried.
“Sit!” he countered.
She did not, but began to back away.
He snared her elbow and pulled her to him. With a growl, he laid his palms upon her shoulders, expecting her to fight him. She yielded, dropping to the ground as if she were melting, her legs folding beneath her.
Her eyes were huge. “Why do you look at me so?”
Only then did Cameron realize the fierceness of hisexpression. Could it be this was a means to yield her compliance…a mere glower?
“Show me your feet,” he said sternly.
“There is no need!”
Hurriedly she tried to draw her feet beneath her, but Cameron was too quick. He planted his hand squarely atop her thigh, just above her knee. Her reaction was immediate. She tried to recoil. With his fingers Cameron squeezed, just enough to convey the message that she was not free.
She froze. He had the feeling he’d shocked her to the saintly core. All at once her face burned crimson.
A potent satisfaction filled his chest. A look. A touch. This was proving most enlightening—it would seem either would quell her resistance.
Cupping his free hand around one shapely calf, he drew her foot forward, dimly aware of the softness of her flesh. She flinched, but did not withdraw.
His frown returned in
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